Thirsty

The level of exasperation and amount of repetition made me envision Reese doing any number of things: dismantling the couches and stacking all of the cushions in the kitchen to better reach the upper cabinets, scaling the half wall that separates our kitchen from the family room and shimmying down it like a Marine in an obstacle course during basic training instead of walking around it, or attempting another unlikely jump, aspiring to leap from the end table and grab onto one of those tantalizing ceiling fan blades.

It was none of those. It was much simpler. She had been caught drinking directly from the water dispenser on our refrigerator, her head tilted back like a little gerbil, letting the water trickle into her open mouth until she pulled back, water dribbling down her chin as she unconsciously wiped her mouth with her sleeve and looked at Joel with those expressive eyes as if suggesting, "What? I was thirsty. Licking the refrigerator is a perfectly understandable method of drinking."

She's efficient, I'll give you that. The closest distance between two points is a straight line, so why bother getting a cup when you can go directly to the source?